


Things

by Marauder_Lupine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coping, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-War, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 04:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marauder_Lupine/pseuds/Marauder_Lupine
Summary: Loosely inspired by Marie Kondo, maybe?





	Things

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I've never watched Marie Kondo's show. Or read her book. Sorry.

There.

Three boxes. Each carried one by one. Up three flights of stairs. Each stacked precisely on top of the other. In the far corner of the attic in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Each one labelled exactly the same. In black ink spelled not to fade. In thick, neat lettering. In the top right corner - SIRIUS.

There were six boxes in total, actually. The other three, while each labeled exactly the same - in the same ink, in the same handwriting - had been magic’d up to the attic. The things in those boxes were valuable. Many of them were of cultural and historical significance even, but Remus did not care too much about those things. They had been Black things.

Those first boxes had been collected from throughout the house. Over months and months. There had been so many things to go through, he found it best to go room by room. If he was going to live there, he wanted to be thorough in his packing up of Black things.

But time was now a luxury he could afford. So he gave himself plenty of it. Remus spent hours in some rooms - clearing out old pots and pans, and mismatched tea cups and saucers, or days in others - reading through each letter, note, and missive he found in old desks, and separating each book in the libraries into piles of keep, donate, and send to the Ministry for further inquiries.

Some days, though, Remus didn't do anything. Especially the days after the full moon. He was in no hurry after all. So on those days he would spend time in the parlor, having already been thoroughly cleaned out. He'd have his tea and read a book. It was nice not having so many Black things around anymore.

There were, of course, plenty of Black things around. Armchairs and settees, tables and armoires. But they didn't seem like Black things anymore, not after he'd finished purging each room. They were Remus’ things now. Things that might have to be replaced sooner or later, but were still good for now. Things that were actually quite lovely or seemed useful. Things that interested him.

Some things were never Black things. In some rooms, Remus found pink hair ties, chocolate frog cards, and even lengths of parchments graded in his own handwriting. Most of these things he packed in a separate box to be delivered to The Burrow when he next got the chance to visit. He paid special mind to gently fold the well-worn sweater with an F on the front.

After finally going through each bedroom, broom closet, sitting room, and cabinet, Remus found himself with just one room left. He'd pointedly ignored it for so long he was almost relieved when he finally opened the door.

The room was not the same way Sirius had left it all those years ago, but everything in there, all the things that filled the space were his things. Remus wanted a reminder of the room just as it was. He used an old muggle camera to take photos.

It took seventeen days to go through each and every one of Sirius’ things. Remus counted them, but if he let himself get lost in old photographs and letters, listening to their favorite albums, and reading torn out magazine articles he'd come across, he didn't mind it one bit.

When he'd finally finished packing up, he realized the room no longer looked like Sirius’ room. The things left behind were just things now. Remus’ things, he supposed.

There were things to be thrown away and things that would be donated. The furniture he would keep. All of the important things had been put away in those three boxes. He'd kept the birthday cards they’d given to Sirius when he turned 16, and the weathered, ripped gloves he'd worn to ride his motorbike. A broken snitch he'd stolen from James and a stuffed dragon missing an eye.

There were no less than three letters packed pressed between heavy books: one addressed to Sirius, signed with a heart and a kiss in red lip stain, dated 1977. Two were written in Sirius’ own handwriting; one addressed to James, dated 1974, and the other addressed to Remus, dated 1995. The three letters were not dissimilar. The last two were obviously never sent.

In hindsight, maybe he didn't need to keep so many old textbooks just because Sirius had doodled in the corners of some of the pages. And maybe Tonks wouldn't have wanted Teddy to have the baby blanket embroidered with the Black family crest. But Remus quite liked the idea of sitting down with his son and going through the stacks of parchments with ideas and outlined spells for pranks and bringing some to fruition.

He'll be glad he kept the thick, wool jumpers he'd found in the closet come winter time, so long as he got around to mending them, but really, where would he wear that denim jacket with the patches? And it was wishful thinking he'd ever fit into those old quidditch jerseys. They were never really his style, but it was possible Harry might want them.

Remus was certainly going to keep the faded ticket stubs that reminded him of how much Sirius had loved going to the muggle cinema, but he probably could have tossed out the shoe box where they'd been stashed all these years.

Yes, perhaps three boxes was too many. These were Sirius’ things, sure, but just things all the same. Remus would have to go through them again and separate the things that were truly important to him, or that would be useful, and that sparked joy; he'd be thankful for the memories of all the other things.

The things he saved wouldn't be boxed up and put in the attic with the rest of the Black things though. Remus would find new places to keep Sirius’ things, places amongst his own.

Those things would be their things now.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in so long and decided I wanted to give it a go again. How'd I do?


End file.
